The Whole Dang Family at 11 Months Ok.

Jonah is 11-months old, but this isn't all about him.

(Hint: It's always all about him. He is the tiny king of our family and he knows it and we all follow him around with stupid grins on our faces giving into his demanding chubby little finger pointing us anywhere he whimsically wants to go for a second before nonsensically changing his mind. And we laugh about it together in the same conspiratorial way suggesting that we're really in charge, but we just aren't quite sure. But we don't really care.)

Here's the ceremonious monthly photo portraying the fact that the babe does what he wants right now and at that moment the ceremonious monthly photo was NOT what he wanted.

Family stats:

Thomas works, works, works and is good at it. He is also very good at helping me. I won't make an itemized list, because it might make me look bad. :) He is GOOD. Sometimes I wonder if he has enough fun in his life because he is always busy making sure we are provided for and looked after, but he doesn't complain.

I am busy with the usual. Morning means: feed people, boss them around, make lunches, try and read some scriptures, ah! we can't forget family prayer again, don't forget your lunch!, Asher! Run along the side of the road so you don't get hit!, fine Ambrose- you can walk to your class by yourself- ah thanks for the hug buddy...and all that. I take care of what I can during the day while chasing around a baby, I get the big boys after school and it's a race to the finish line with homework/swim lessons/speech, then there's dinner (ugh- why is dinner such a puzzle for me- I am not new at this...), and then bedtime and I LOVE bedtime but not just because it signals the end of a crazy day- bedtime means:

I read a chapter of Harry Potter aloud. Ambrose particularly is captivated and I am too. We are into it people. Totally into it. It is fun.

Then we do prayers. Then we play 10 questions. Usually it's mom and dad asking scripture questions, family facts, silly questions, science or math facts... whatever.

Last night it was ridiculous and every answer was: "jammie jeans"... a phrase Asher used for a while to mean PJ pants. We thought we were hilarious. I believe one question was, "What goes on a sandwich with peanut butter?" Answer: "Jam-mie jeans!" hahahaha

Sorry you had to be there.

Sometimes the boys ask the questions.

Always we end with hugs.

Sometimes we also end with parents losing patience with little boys finding excuses to stay up later.

So that's us right now. The boys are doing well in school and swim lessons. The little one is bossing everyone around. And everyone is happy October is here!

This month we have the fall break play, Jonah's first birthday, ward trunk-or-treat, and Halloween. Oh yeah, and we are starting construction on our house. Fun times ahead!

Jazzy Batman

This picture was randomly waiting for me on the computer today.

It made me want to run over to the school and pick him up and take him out to ice cream and make a bronze sculpture of his face and buy him a pony and write a short story about his sassy ways.

Asher Henry is a delight.

Jonah at 8 months!

A week-or-so ago Jonah turned 8 months!

Here's what Jonah Kimball can do now:

Scoot all over the house! It's a huge pain and awesome all at the same time.

He's acting like he's going to officially crawl very soon.

He got four top teeth all of a sudden earning him the nickname: "chompy"- you must say it with a slight New Orleans accent. So he has six teeth now.

Just this past week he decided he prefers me to anyone and anything. He always loved me most, but he fusses for me now. It's not as flattering as it should be.

He takes two longer naps now instead of three naps.

And while we are here, let's talk about his brothers because they are just as cool and rascally:

Ambrose Carl!

 First let's all have a good laugh at this HILARIOUS spring picture of Ambrose and his Jack Nicholson eyebrows. So so good. And down below is the boy at his 6-year-old check-up.

At the time that photo was taken he was 47lbs and 47 inches tall. Pretty cool!

Ambrose loves his swim lessons.

He tolerates me forcing him to do this reading program over the Summer. It makes me slap my forehead in frustration because he is a great reader. I just need to get him to love it more. Working on that.

He loves to go to the water park and beach, have friends over and go to friends houses, pop popcorn, catch lizards, tease Asher, he comes up with art projects galore (mostly involving robots), his favorite color is green, and he is the snuggliest of all of our kids.

Whenever I ask him if he wants to learn the drums or guitar he says, "BOTH!" like I'm insane for asking.

He is either so amazingly, perfectly cute or an emotional nightmare. Sorry future Ambrose reading this, but it's true. We love you anyway buddy!

He is a little self-righteous at times about rules or church stuff, but I prefer that to rebellion in the long run so I put up with my kid reminding me that we don't do this or that on Sunday...etc. :)

He LOVES to learn as long as I am not making it a daily chore- so that's my challenge as a mom.

He is one of my very best friends.

Now for Asher Henry!

Oh this picture makes me laugh until I cry. The tiny smile, the pointed toes in slippers, the obedient pose... it's just too much.

And here's a day where he came out in the morning fully dressed telling me, "Mom, I a cool guy!"

He is very cool.

His language is EXPLODING! Thomas and I look at each other amazed every few days at what just came out of his mouth. We understand him and he is saying very complex words. It's nothing less than an answer to many, many prayers.

We are keeping him in the same preschool class next year and they will share him with the large class on campus so he can get all types of practice and social experience. I cannot say enough about how good school has been for him and what an answer to prayer it has been! Grateful.

He loves his family, teachers, friends, and baby bear.

He is the best lizard catcher in our family.

At his four-year-old check up a week ago he weighed 35lbs and was 40.5 inches tall.

He just officially learned to swim last week. 

He enjoys the water park, beach, Ruby and Joey's house, quoting silly lines from his favorite shows, dancing, and making presents for everyone.

He eats the same thing everyday and it drives me nuts. (Breakfast: granola, Lunch: PB&honey, Dinner: nothing! :) I force fruits and vegetables on him whenever possible. He will eat plain OnoYo with no topping.)

His favorite color is blue.

He will do any reading or math activities I throw his way. He cheers for it sometimes!

He is stubborn and we are constantly saying, "Asher, be easy to get along with please!"

He is so little and cute and funny and I am in love with him. 

He still gives the best hugs around!

May Day 2013

Remember our first May Day last year? Here it is. Man May Day is so cute.

This year the boys were so excited. Ambrose practiced his "Korean" dance for weeks leading up to the big day... it's that Gangam style song. With MC Hammer mixed in of course. The kids loved it! I am so impressed with all the talented parents who put hours of their time into these programs. It is all volunteer service and that is amazing! The kids feel so cool and special and have a blast. I vow to actually help out next year.

Asher's preschool group did a cute dance in their own cultural costumes so we dressed that haole as a cowboy. Ambrose's grade represented Korea and it was crazy adorable.

I love this community so so much!

Oh my gosh I forgot Ambrose had that giant mohawk. Who is his mother???????

Teaching moments are hardly ever convenient.

Ambrose Carl Robertson has been begging for me to sew something with him since he was three. He's almost six, so I think I've neglected this request for too long... but it never seemed to be at the right time and what exactly do you teach a 3, 4, or 5 year-old child to sew, and and and... this run-on, stream of thought just goes to show that we had it comin'. We did it at last.

I had never made a pillowcase, but it seemed easy enough. It is. Well, it is if you don't still have foggy baby brain and have a chunky, hungry baby who wants to eat or be put down for a nap every time you start to make progress. I don't want to say Jonah keeps me from sewing these days, but caring for him and getting things done around the house certainly don't amount to hours of free time to create something.

So, with daddy home to pitch in on baby duty Ambrose and I finally plugged away nearly all Presidents Day. It took that long to explain each step, figure out how to do it and then teach it (we made it with a band so it's ever-so-slightly more complicated), and then let him do everything that he could possibly do himself.

We did it though! Not without incident (we sewed it the wrong way making it look like a tiny sleeping bag the first time)- but we did it!

At one point in the day, as I was picking out seams on the band and Ambrose had ditched me for a bit to watch the Smurfs I huffed to Thomas, "This is not what I had planned for my day!"

And, of course in hindsight, I laughed at my bad attitude. When you have three kids- you don't have "your day" anymore. You basically sign that away when you choose to get pregnant. "My day" at this stage is for them. These teaching moments are all around me and sometimes I ignore them because, frankly, it would have taken me less than an hour to make this pillowcase on my own. But look at that pleased little face up there-- we spent our day working on a whale pillowcase and he loves it. He'll use it until it falls apart and we can fix it together then too.

It will need to be fixed at an inconvenient time and we will make time to learn how to do it- together.

I said come on, come on, come on, come on...

and take it!




Take another little piece of my heart now babies. Thanks for these photos Thomas.

Jonah at one month.

Jonah turned one month like three weeks ago and I have been meaning to post this one month shot since then.

That well-intended lag in time sums up my life with three kids pretty well.

As I type this Ambrose and Asher are playing/fighting/playing...etc. and Jonah will be content on the bed alone for about another minute so I better type fast. 

I am ignoring the laundry to type this.

It's almost lunch time so I have to think about feeding the troops before meltdowns happen and I'm avoiding that to type this too.

(What's become of my life? I used to just be a selfish youngest child who did what ever she wanted! hahaha)

I used to blog at night when the boys were asleep, but I have a snuggle buddy who requires a lot of feeding at night now. And it's not Thomas. Sorry for the awkward clarification, but I just know some of you weirdos were wondering. :)

So, yes, I am just about as busy as I thought I would be with three kids. Busy busy busy.

But it's not bad. I can handle it. (I think I can I think I can I think I can.) The boys are healthy for the most part, sweet for the most part, hilarious, smart, surprisingly helpful, rascally (Asher), needing a lot of structure/instruction/activities over this long Winter break from school (Ambrose), and most of all very very hungry (Jonah) (ok all of them).

See you in another three weeks with the 2 months photo! (So optimistic!)

(Side note- Jonah started screaming while I was typing this and now Ambrose is snuggled up to him on the bed trying to get him to take a pacifier singing, "You'e such a sweet boy. You're such a good boy. I love you brother." And this, ladies and gentlemen, is what makes this hectic time so very sweet.)

Jonah's 1-month stats:

*10lbs. 1 oz

*24.5 inches long

*loves to turn his head to the left so we're working on getting it to the right more often too

*still has a full head of dark fuzzy hair

*wakes up twice in the night for a big meal

*loves to sleep with Mama but will sleep the first stretch of the night in his crib and the last stretch in the swing

*takes a 2oz bottle each night before bed of formula or mama's milk

*already seems entertained by his lively brothers

Mama stats:

*I have 25lbs to lose. Still. Must find time to run! (My silver bullet in weight loss.)

*Mama goal: Show more patience. With EVERYONE.

Relearning baby.

Asher was a baby three years and some odd months ago and not too much time has passed since then, but I feel like I am starting over this time around.

And I am only 28 and that's not that old, but I feel like everything is more rickety and harder this time around as far as my poor body is concerned. Everything is sore and I am so exhausted.

The good news? I have been through this twice already so almost everything else is so easy this time around.

I know how to take care of a baby and Thomas does too. We are an excellent team!

When I'm so sleepy that I can't make sense of the world he sends me to bed and takes the baby in another room so I don't have to worry. He feeds him a bottle and runs the house and makes calls for work and feeds everyone dinner and loads the dishes without batting an eyelash. Thomas of five years ago wouldn't have been able to handle all that.

When everyone needs me and baby just wants to eat and eat and eat and I have a work deadline and phone calls to return and church calling stuff to attend to all at the same time I prioritize and multitask and cut myself some slack. Stephanie of five years ago wouldn't have been able to handle all that.

So, yes, we are older and sleepier and more rickety, but we are wiser. Much much wiser.

I've definitely shed tears and we've all lost our patience, but this transition over the last three weeks has mostly been a sleepy, happy blur. The kids are gorgeous and healthy, we are all in love, and things are moving right along.

Oh yeah, and Grandma Hawkins came for a week and cleaned and cooked and ran the ship while I had mastitis and saved the day so that helps too! :) We love you Grandma!

Jonah's birth story!

I better get this down before I forget all of the details. This birth was so weird in some ways and exactly how it should have been over all.

To start, it was weird because I was so unsure if I was in labor or not.  Monday 10/22 I had lots of random contractions all day, but around 1PM they were more regular.  I was trying not to get excited because they didn't hurt at all and if there is one thing I remember about going into labor... it's that it hurts.  Hurts so good. :)

I called Thomas at work and told him not to get all excited, but I was maybe-possibly-kind-of-thinking-I-might-be-in-labor.  Or starting to be anyway. He promised not to get excited, but he sounded pretty dang excited.

Ambrose came like a week late and Asher came a day late and my due date this time around wasn't until the 25th so I told myself not to get excited. But I was.

Around dinner time I was still not sure because the contractions seemed to slow down a little and still didn't hurt.  I told my in-laws to be on stand-by just in case and called my good pal Emily Plicka to have her be on back-up stand-by just in case. I took some laundry downstairs so the boys would have clean clothes while I was gone... just in case.  I carried some laundry upstairs and woah woah woah what a contraction and now another and another-- how could we deny it any longer? I was totally going to have this baby!

So we shuffled the boys down to my in-laws and said uncertain goodbyes. I hate that feeling. I simultaneously feel like I can't wait to get this baby out and meet our new boy while wanting to sob and sit right down where I am standing and cling to my two little boys for a couple of hours before their whole world as they know it with their Mama gets turned upside down. It's so bittersweet. I was glad the boys had their grandparents to be with during the transition and hospital stay, but I was irrationally worried and upset that I didn't know the exact, secure plan for them the next morning when Grandma and Grandpa had their crack-of-dawn temple shift and I wouldn't be there. I knew something would ultimately work out, but was upset the entire way to the hospital until that great Emily friend called and reassured me that no matter what she would be there. "Whew, ok, the boys are in great hands the entire hospital stay with G&G Robertson and the Plickas. Let's have this baby!"

And just like that I was on fire! Ready and confident and wishing the hour-long drive to the hospital  was a little shorter.

As we passed each landmark and familiar coast-line my heart started sinking because my contractions seemed to be slowing. Slowing, stopping, disappearing. What happened?! By time we got to the hospital I felt sheepish and silly and disappointed. We checked in anyway.

They got me into a room to monitor the now nonexistent contractions and I kept apologizing for wasting their time. The nurse turned me on my right side and put the monitors on my belly with the familiar "whoosh whoosh" of the baby's heartbeat galloping through the monitor speakers. There were in fact some contractions, but they were moderate and few and far in between. I tried to mentally prepare myself for the long drive of shame home as we waited for word from the nurse and watched the Presidential debate on TV.

Baby's heartbeat was dropping. They didn't know why. They decided they needed an ultrasound technician and at this point we prepared for a late night since they had to call her in and she had to perform her tests and we still had to drive all the way home. When she got there it was determined that the heartbeat dropped because they had me laying on his cord. DOH! So they flipped me on my left side and continued. The test showed that I was low on fluids in the womb and a call to my doctor confirmed an overnight stay to increase fluids and induce at 5AM the next day because of the low fluids.

"Well. I guess we will leave here with a baby after all!" I beamed at Thomas. I was nervous because being induced with Ambrose was a long and very painful process. Not being induced with Asher was normal, relatively quick, and completely awesome. "Oh well, I hate being induced, but I am just happy to be having this baby!"

We got checked into our real room and settled in for the night. I woke up at 4AM with real contractions so they didn't need to do the Cervadil but they still started Petocin around 5AM. The contractions progressed normally throughout the morning. We had a great nurse named Melody come on for the day shift who got me hooked up to a wireless monitor so I could get off my very sore left side and move around the hospital. Bless her! We walked and walked and stopped for increasingly painful contractions. These were the demons I remembered from births one and two. These were hard. Thomas would immediately rush to my side during each one and rub my back and say encouraging things. Just like clockwork, there came a time when they were so bad I told Thomas to back-up and not touch me. I felt bad to be shooing him away when he was just trying to be helpful, but they were just so irritating I couldn't help myself. Soon they went from irritating to life-crushing. I felt like I would rather be doing ANYTHING else rather than feel the way I was feeling and doing what I was doing. SURELY I MUST be at a 9 by now. Melody the nurse thought so too. She checked me and NOPE. I was a 4 at best. A 4?! A stupid, disappointing 4?! I couldn't go on. No way.

This was a familiar, Petocin-is-the-absolute-devil feeling. I felt the same despair and unrelenting pain with Ambrose's labor and delivery. What got me out of that hell last time? Oh that's right! After 24-hours of what felt like near-death, and being stuck at a 3, I got an epidural! I felt like I had failed last time, but then quickly sang epidural-induced praises as I was finally able to relax enough to dilate quickly and have a baby!

"Can I please have an epidural?" I asked the nurse with a hint of shame. Why the shame people? True, I didn't get one with Asher's birth and felt like a complete goddess as a result, but seriously?! Epidurals are God's gift and completely wonderful if you are stuck at a 3 or 4 and feeling like you are going to die. Ain't no shame. Quit being all superior about your prideful, smug so-called "natural-births"! They are all natural! What's the alternative? Artificial births?! Who am I ranting to here? I'm not sure! Moving on!

The epidural came, and it was warm, awesome, and just as enjoyable as I remembered. I rested for a while and then a POP sound startled me from my nap... did I just wet my gown? Nope! My water broke. Oh, ok. The doctor broke it for me the last two births so this was a new experience. Cool!

And then I felt a head. "Hey guys, I think I need to push."

The doctor appeared out of nowhere and after a few bouts of pushing everyone exclaimed about how much hair this baby had followed by an immediate, "Stop! Don't push anymore- he pooped!"

The baby pooped right before I pushed his head out and it was all over him. They had to suction it out of his nose and mouth before he could take his first giant gulp of air or it would be toxic to him. I puffed and puffed to keep the natural urge to push at bay. The epidural had worn-off just enough that I knew exactly what was going on and could maneuver accordingly.

When I could finally push him out I felt the same amazing sacredness immediately enter the room that I have with each of the other births. The only way I can think to describe it seems inadequate, but I am sure you know exactly what I am talking about. The veil between this earth life and heaven was extremely thin as my last child entered this world and made us complete.

Stats: 8lbs. 11oz. and 21 3/4 inches long- born on Tuesday 10/23/2012 at 12:10 in the afternoon at Castle Medical Center in Kailua, Hawaii- Jonah Kimball Robertson!

In ten minutes.

In ten minutes I get to slowly make my way over to their school.  They will smell like their classrooms, peanut butter, sweat from the playground, and have pencil or paint smudges on their hands from their hard work.  I can grab them up, squeeze them, hold their little bodies to mine and breathe their wild little selves in.  They belong to school from 7:50am-2:15PM, but at 2:16PM they are mine all mine.  I better get going!